


Two Ways of Using a Knife (or a Metal Arm)

by RembrandtsWife



Category: Captain America (Movies), Leverage, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Chef Eliot, Cooking, Crossover, Gen, Inspired by Fanart, Knives, chef bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 18:18:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7449358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RembrandtsWife/pseuds/RembrandtsWife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes a man has to get his Julia Child on, even if a very quiet super-assassin is watching him. (Takes place somewhere during <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/7338457">"Especially the Desserts"</a>.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Ways of Using a Knife (or a Metal Arm)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this lovely piece](http://xxxxxx6x.tumblr.com/post/147187047344/watch-too-many-hells-kitchen) by [X on Tumblr](http://xxxxxx6x.tumblr.com/). Because chef Bucky is my ultimate comfort space.

Eliot had never been crazy about French cuisine--yeah, so shoot him--but once in a while, a man had to get his Julia Child on. He had never told anybody that when he was working for Toby, he used to watch a lot of Julia Child videos and they helped him almost as much as the actual cooking did.

He was chopping up the onions for a mirepoix when he noticed he was being watched. Barnes was leaning in the doorway, a fascinated expression on his face that turned guilty when he realized he'd been caught out. "I didn't mean to bother--"

"'S alright." Eliot turned his attention back to the cutting board and went through another onion. When he looked up again, Barnes had come into the kitchen and curled onto a stool by the sink, at a respectful distance, but with good sightlines for all the doors as well as for Eliot's workspace. Eliot hid his smirk and pulled another onion from the pile.

"You're really good at that."

Eliot nodded once and surveyed the pile of chopped onion. Yes, okay. He went for the carrots next. "I had training."

One, two, three carrots. Barnes watched, his feet on the rungs of the stool, his hands in his lap. With a baseball cap over his clubbed hair, he looked almost like a kid.

"I used to do wetwork," Eliot began.

"I remember." 

He'd never gone hand-to-hand with the Winter Soldier. He was grateful, because he wouldn't have fucking survived. No shame in admitting that. He'd only seen the Soldier in action from a distance, and vice versa. But Barnes remembered that.

"I met a man who taught me there was more than one way to use a knife." He paused in mid-carrot to flip the knife in his grip--defensive position--then throwing position--then back to chopping position. "Turned out I was good at using a knife like this. Liked it better than the other way."

Four more carrots passed under the knife before Barnes said anything more. "You still fight, though. On jobs with your crew."

Eliot wasn't surprised Barnes had sussed out there was more to the brewpub than just feeding people. He shrugged. "No guns. No knives. No weapons, if I can help it. If I can't, if I have to, I'll swing a club, crack heads, break some bones. A man can survive that. Or a woman," he added, thinking of Mikel with a slight smile, as he always did. "I won't kill unless I have to, unless there's no other way to protect my people."

He glanced up at Barnes, who nodded and licked his lips. "Would you... show me how to do that?"

"Sure." 

Eliot swept off the cutting board, adding the carrots to the bowl of chopped vegetables, and laid out a bunch of celery. He took a moment to wash his knife and think about what, exactly, he was doing before he handed the former Winter Soldier another finely honed blade and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with him. Barnes had washed his hands and left off the fingerless gloves he habitually wore; his left hand gleamed more brightly than the knives.

"Okay, so, you hold the knife like this...." He talked through the steps, showing Barnes, who mimicked him competently. The man was precise, a thing Eliot always admired. A bunch of celery became a pile of neat kidney-shaped slices, green and fragrant.

"I can't do it as fast as you."

"You haven't got the years of practice. You could get there, though." Eliot didn't say anything he didn't mean.

"I wonder if--" Barnes adjusted his cap for no apparent reason and switched the knife from his right hand to his left. He took a deep breath and started on another bunch of celery, more slowly than he had chopped with his right hand. In the space of another breath, he sped up to cut faster than Eliot could and just as accurately.

When Barnes looked up from the cutting board, Eliot grinned at him. Barnes actually let out a shaky laugh. "I think I've got some potential, here."

Eliot ventured a light slap on the other man's arm. "I'd say you do. If you wanna do more than just chop things up, I can teach you some."

Barnes's smile made him look even more boyish, in spite of his scruffy beard. "I'd like that. I think I'd like that a lot."


End file.
